Page 19 of Dash

“Okay, but you’ll have to tell me what to do. Despite all my rebellions growing up, I’ve never been on the back of a motorcycle before. My mother will be so disappointed.”

She says it with a wonky grin, but her tone is just cutting enough that I see the wound she’s trying to stem.

Fuck her mum.

“I’ll show you,” I assure her.

I unlatch my helmet from the clip on the back. I don’t take my eyes off her as I slide it onto her head. It wobbles a little, not tight around her face, but it’s better than nothing.

“Do I look like a biker?” Her smile fucking floor me.

I mirror it. “You look fucking better than I ever could in that thing.”

The helmet doesn’t hide the pink staining her cheeks, or the dazed look in her eyes.Has no one ever complimented her?

I reach for the chin strap, glancing between it and her as I adjust it to fit her. She’s no longer smiling, and her breathing is coming faster.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Dash. You’re unjustly attractive in everything you put on.”

Her words are dynamite and it takes everything I have not to tear that helmet off her and kiss her until she’s gasping my name.

“I guess we’re both too fucking pretty for our own good,” I murmur, grabbing the front of the helmet to check it’s secure enough to protect her brain if she comes off the bike.

The electricity crackles between us, stronger than it had been at the party. Thicker and hotter. I want to slide my tongue into her sassy little mouth and make sure the only word she remembers is my name.

“I guess so.”

I rap my knuckles against the plastic, giving us both a moment of reprieve to breathe again. “You feel good in there?”

She looks fucking adorable in my hoodie, which swallows her, bare legs, high heels, and my helmet. None of it is suitableriding gear, but she’ll be safe behind me. I won’t let anything happen to her.

“Yeah, I’m good,” she says. “It’s heavy.”

“I’ve got a big head,” I joke.

“What about you? What are you going to wear?”

The question blindsides me. I can’t remember the last time anyone ever gave a fuck about me and my safety. It’s a small thing, but it feels like she handed me the universe on a silver platter.

“I’ve been riding a long time, babe. I know how to stay safe.”

I talk her through how to get on the bike, and how to ride behind me. She listens intently, and there’s a little flush of excitement in her cheeks when I’m done.

Every part of me is hoping she loves to ride, so we can do this again. Because I have the feeling once she’s behind me, I’m going to want her there as much as possible.

I swing my leg over the bike, settling until I’m comfortable. Then I look over my shoulder at her.

“Don’t laugh if I do this wrong. Also, I’m not sure how to do this without flashing my underwear at you.”

“No complaints here if you do, babe.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a flash of pleasure behind it.

“Okay, so… like this?”

She places a foot on the peg and kicks her leg over the back. If I had a different vantage point, she would have flashed me her pretty pussy, and I scan the street quickly to make sure we’re alone.

She sits behind me and then shifts until her body is flush against my back. My brain detonates.

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